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Of Mice and Merchants:Trade and Growth in the Iron Age
Stephan Maurer∗, Jorn Steffen Pischke†, Ferdinand Rauch‡
June 23, 2016
PRELIMINARY AND INCOMPLETE
Abstract
The causal connection between trade and development is typically obscured byreverse causality, the endogenous location of economic activities, and confoundingfactors like institutions. To avoid these problems, we study this question using oneof the earliest massive trade expansions in prehistory: the first systematic crossingof open seas in the Mediterranean during the time of the Phoenicians. For eachpoint on the coast, we construct the ease with which other points can be reached bycrossing open water. This connectivity differs depending on the shape of the coastand the location of islands. We show that an association between better connectedlocations and archaeological sites emerges during the Iron Age when sailors routinelycrossed open water. We corroborate these findings at the world scale.
JEL classification: F14, N7, O47
Keywords: Urbanization, locational fundamentals, trade
∗LSE and CEP†LSE and CEP‡Oxford and CEP, email: ferdinand.rauch@economics.ox.ac.uk. We thank Juan Pradera for excel-
lent research assistance, and David Abulafia, Tim Besley, Andrew Bevan, Jeremiah Dittmar, AvnerGreif, Carl Knappett, Andrea Matranga, Guy Michaels, Dennis Novy, Luigi Pascali, Dominic Rathbone,Corinna Riva, Susan Sherratt, Pedro CL Souza, Peter Temin, John van Reenen, Ruth Whitehouse, andparticipants at various seminars and conferences for comments.
1
1 Introduction
We investigate to what degree trading opportunities affect economic development. In ad-
dition to factor accumulation and technical change, Smithian growth due to exchange and
specialization is one of the fundamental sources of growth. While there is a sizable liter-
ature on the topic, a prominent contribution is Frankel and Romer (1999), there is little
compelling empirical evidence whether the correlation between trade and growth reflects
causality. Answering this question is difficult for a variety of reasons, reverse causality,
the endogenous location of economic activities, path dependence, intervening variables like
institutions, unobservables which are correlated with trade, and measurement problems.
In order to circumvent many of these problems, we focus on one of the earliest trade ex-
pansions in pre-history: the systematic crossing of open seas in the Mediterranean at the
time of the Phoenicians. We relate trading opportunities, which we capture through the
connectedness of points along the coast, to early development as measured by the presence
of archaeological sites. We find that locational advantages for sea trade matter for the
foundation of Iron Age cities and settlements, and thus helped shape the development of
the Mediterranean region, and the world.
A location with more potential trading partners should have an advantage if trade is
important for development. As long as ships sail mainly along the coast, the particular
shape of a coast does not influence how many neighboring points can be reached from
a starting location within a certain distance. However, once sailors began to cross open
seas, coastal geography becomes important: a sailor starting at a coastal stretch where
the sea is convex can reach more destinations within a certain distance than one starting
at a stretch of concave coast. The location of islands also matters. We capture these
geographic differences by dividing the Mediterranean coast into grid cells, and calculating
how many other cells can be reached within a certain distance. Parts of the Mediterranean
are highly advantaged by their geography, e.g. the island-dotted Aegean and the “waist
2
of the Mediterranean” at southern Italy, Sicily, and modern Tunisia. Other areas are less
well connected, like most of the North African coast, parts of Iberia and southern France,
and the Levantine coast.
We relate our measure of connectivity to the number of archaeological sites found near
any particular coastal grid point. This is our proxy for economic development. It is based
on the assumption that more human economic activity leads to more settlements and
particularly towns and cities. While these expand and multiply, there are more traces
in the archaeological record. We find a pronounced relationship between connectivity
and development in our data set for the Iron Age around 750 BC, when the Phoenicians
had begun to systematically traverse the open sea, using various different data sources
for sites. We find a weaker and less consistent relationship between connectivity and
sites for earlier periods. This is consistent with the idea that earlier voyages occurred,
maybe at intermediate distances, at some frequency already during the Bronze Age. Our
best evidence suggests that the relationship between coastal geography and settlement
density, once established in the Iron Age, persists through the classical period. This
is consistent with a large literature in economic geography on the persistence of city
locations. While our main results pertain to the Mediterranean, where we have good
information on archaeological sites, we also corroborate our findings at a world scale
using population data for 1 AD from McEvedy and Jones (1978) as outcome.
Our approach offers various advantages compared to the existing literature. We avoid
issues of reverse causality and many confounders by using a geography based instrument
for trade. In fact, we do not observe trade itself but effectively estimate a reduced form re-
lationship, relating opportunities for trade directly to economic development. This means
that we do not necessarily isolate the effect of the exchange of goods per se. Our results
could be driven by migration or the spread of ideas as well, and we when we talk about
“trade” we interpret it in this broad sense. We do believe that coastal connectivity cap-
3
tures effects due to maritime connections. It is difficult to imagine any other channel
why geography would matter in this particular manner, and we show that our results
are robust to a variety of geographic controls. Since we do not use any trade data we
avoid many of the measurement issues related to trade. We measure trading opportu-
nities and development at a fine geographic scale, hence avoiding issues of aggregation
to a coarse country level. Both our measure of connectedness, and our outcome variable
are doubtlessly extremely crude proxies of both trading opportunities and of economic
development. This will likely bias us against finding any relationship and hence makes
our results only more remarkable.
The periods we study, the Bronze and Iron Ages, were characterized by the rise and decline
of many cultures and local concentrations of economic activity. Many settlements and
cities rose during this period, only to often disappear again. This means that there were
ample opportunities for new locations to rise to prominence while path dependence and
hysteresis may have played less role compared to later ages. The political organization of
the Mediterranean world prior to the Romans was mostly local. The Egyptian Kingdoms
are the main exception to this rule but Egypt was mostly focused on the Nile and less
engaged in the Mediterranean. As a result, institutional factors were less important during
the period we study.
There is a large literature on trade and growth. Canonical studies are the investigations by
Frankel and Romer (1999) and Redding and Venables (2004). These papers use distance
from markets and connectivity as measured by gravity relationships to capture the ease
with which potential trading partners can be reached. However, these measures do not
rely purely on geography but conflate economic outcomes like population and output,
which are themselves affected by the development process. Redding and Sturm (2008)
is a rare example of a study breaking this relationship. They focus on the division and
reunification in Germany, exploiting a natural experiment which changed the access to
4
other markets sharply for some locations but not others.
Most similar to our study are a series of papers which also exploit new trade relationships
arising from discoveries, the opening of new trade routes, and technological change. Ace-
moglu, Johnson, and Robinson (2005) link Atlantic trade starting around 1,500 AD to
the ensuing shift in the focus of economic activity in Europe from the south and center
of the continent to the Atlantic periphery. Feyrer (2009) and Pascali (2014) exploit the
availability of new transport technologies, air transport and steam ships respectively, and
find that countries whose trading opportunities improved disproportionately saw larger
income growth. We find similar results for a much earlier trade expansion.
This paper also relates to a literature on how changes in locational fundamentals shape the
location of cities (Davis and Weinstein 2002, Bleakley and Lin 2012, Michaels and Rauch
2015, Bosker and Buringh 2011). Our contribution to this literature is to give evidence
on one of the most important locational fundamentals, market access. In a world with
multiple modes of transport for the transportation of different goods, it is typically hard
to measure market access and changes of market access of a city. Our measure relates
to a world where much long distance trade took place on boats, which makes it easier to
isolate a measure of market access.
Also closely related is the paper by Ashraf and Galor (2011). They relate population
density in various periods to the relative geographic isolation of a particular area. Their
interest is in the impact of cultural diversity on the development process, and they view
geographic isolation effectively as an instrument for cultural homogeneity. Similar to
our measure, their geographic isolation measure is a measure of connectivity of various
points around the world. They find that better connected (i.e. less isolated) countries have
lower population densities for every period from 1 to 1,500AD, which is the opposite of our
result. Our approach differs from Ashraf and Galor (2011) in that we only look at coasts
and not inland locations. They control for distance to waterways in their regressions, a
5
variable that is strongly positively correlated with population density. Hence, our results
so different are not necessarily in conflict with theirs.
Our paper is also related to a number of studies on pre-historic Mediterranean connectivity
and seafaring. McEvedy (1967) creates a measure of “littoral zones” using coastal shapes.
He produces a map which closely resembles the one we obtain from our connectivity
measure but does not relate geography directly to seafaring. This is done by Broodbank
(2006), who overlays the connectivity map with archaeological evidence of the earliest
sea-crossings up to the end of the last Ice Age. He interprets the connections as nursery
conditions for the early development of nautical skills, rather than as market access, as
we do for the later Bronze and Iron Ages. Also related is a literature in archaeology using
network models connecting archaeological sites; Knappett, Evans, and Rivers (2008) is an
excellent example for the Bronze Age Aegean. None of these papers relate to the changes
arising from open sea-crossings, which is the focus of our analysis.
2 Brief history of ancient seafaring in the Mediter-
ranean
The Mediterranean is a unique geographic space. The large inland sea is protected from
the open oceans by the Straight of Gibraltar. The tectonics of the area, the African plate
descending under the Eurasian one, have created a rugged northern coast in Europe and
a much straighter one in North Africa. Volcanic activity and the more than 3,000 islands
also tend to be concentrated towards the north. The ruggedness implies that few naviga-
ble rivers flow into the Mediterranean. The climatic conditions in the Mediterranean are
generally relatively favorable to agriculture, particularly in the north. The Mediterranean
is the only large inland sea with such a climate (Broodbank, 2013). Its east-west orienta-
tion facilitated the spread of agriculture from the Levant (Diamond 1998). Despite these
6
common features, the size of the Mediterranean and an uneven distribution of natural re-
sources also implies great diversity. Modern writers on the Mediterranean, most notably
Horden and Purcell (2000) have stressed that the area consists of many micro-regions.
Geography and climate make the Mediterranean prone to many risks, such as forest fires,
earthquakes, plagues of locusts, droughts, floods, and landslides. As a consequence, trade
networks that allow to moderate shocks are of great mutual interest in the region, and
trade has played a central role since its early history.
Clear evidence of the first maritime activity of humans in the Mediterranean is elusive.
Crossings to islands close to the mainland were apparently undertaken as far back as
30,000 BC (Fontana Nuova in Sicily). In a careful review of the evidence, Broodbank
(2006) dates more active seafaring to around 10,000 BC based on the distribution of
obsidian (a volcanic rock) at sites separated by water (see Dixon, Cann, and Renfrew,
1965, 1968). This points to the existence of active sea-faring of hunter-gatherer societies,
and suggests that boats must have traveled distances of 20-35 kilometers around that
time. We have no evidence on the first boats but they were likely made from skin and
frame or dugout canoes.
The beginning of agriculture around the Mediterranean happened in the Levant between
9,500 BC and 8,000 BC. From there it spread initially to Anatolia and the Aegean. Signs
of a fairly uniform Neolithic package of crops and domesticated animals can be found
throughout the Mediterranean. The distribution of the earliest evidence of agriculture,
which includes islands before reaching more peripheral parts of the mainland, suggests a
maritime transmission channel.
The Neolithic revolution did not reach Iberia until around 5,500 BC. By that time, many
islands in the Aegean had been settled, there is evidence for grain storage, and metal
working began in the Balkans. Because of the uneven distribution of ores, metals soon
became part of long range transport. Uncertainty must have been a reason for the for-
7
mation of networks both for insurance and exchange. The first archaeological evidence of
a boat also stems from this period: a dugout canoe, about 10 m long, at La Marmotta
north of Rome. A replica proved seaworthy and allowed travel of 20 - 25 km per day in a
laden boat.
The Levant, which was home to the first cities, remained a technological leader in the
region, yet there is little evidence of sea-faring even during the Copper Age. This changed
with the rise of large scale societies in Mesopotamia and Egypt. Inequality in these first
states led to rich elites, who soon wished to trade with each other. Being at the cross-roads
between these two societies, the Levant quickly became a key intermediary.
Two important new transport technologies arrived in the Mediterranean around 3,000
BC: the donkey and the sail. The donkey was uniquely suited to the climatic conditions
and rugged terrain around the Mediterranean (better than camels or horses). Donkeys are
comparable in speed to canoes. Sailboats of that period could be around 5-10 times faster
in favorable conditions, ushering in a cost advantage of water transport that would remain
intact for many millennia to come. The land route out of Egypt to the Levant (“The
Way of Horus”) was soon superseded by sea routes leading up the Levantine coast to new
settlements like Byblos, with Levantine traders facilitating much of Egypt’s Mediterranean
trade. Coastal communities began to emerge all the way from the Levant via Anatolia to
the Aegean and Greece.
There is no evidence of the sail spreading west of Greece at this time. Canoes, though
likely improved into high performance water craft, remained inferior to sail boats but
kept facilitating maritime transport in the central and western Mediterranean. The major
islands there were all settled by the early Bronze Age. While not rivaling the maritime
activity in the eastern Mediterranean, regional trade networks arose also in the west. One
example is the Beaker network of the 3rd Millennium BC; most intense from southern
France to Iberia, with fewer beakers found in the western Maghreb, northern Italy, and
8
Sardinia but also stretching all the way into central Europe, the Baltic, and Britain. Land
routes probably dominated but sea trade must have played a role. The Cetina culture of
the late 3rd Millennium BC in the Adriatic is another example. Sea-crossings up to 250
km were undertaken.
A drying spell around 2,200 BC and decline in Egypt disrupted the active maritime
network in the eastern Mediterranean and the population it supported. The oldest known
shipwreck in the Mediterranean at the island of Dokos in southern Greece dates from this
period. The 15 meters long boat could carry a maximum weight of 20 tons. The wreck
contained largely pottery, which was likely the cargo rather than carrying liquids, and
also carried lead ingots. The ship probably was engaged in local trade.
Decline in the eastern Mediterranean soon gave rise to new societies during the 2nd
millennium BC: palace cultures sprang up all over the eastern Mediterranean. Minoan
Crete and Mycenae in Greece were notable examples but similar cities existed along the
Anatolian coast and in the Levant. The palaces did not simply hold political power, but
were centers of religious, ceremonial, and economic activity. At least initially, craftsmen
and traders most likely worked for the palace rather than as independent agents. Sail
boats still constituted an advanced technology, and only the concentration of resources
in the hands of a rich elite made their construction and operation possible. The political
reach of the palaces at coastal sites was local; larger polities remained confined to inland
areas as in the case of Egypt, Babylon, or the Hittite Empire.
An active trade network arose again in the eastern Mediterranean stretching from Egypt
to Greece during the Palace period. The Anatolian land route was replaced by sea trade.
Some areas began to specialize in cash crops like olives and wine. A typical ship was still
the 15 m, 20 ton, one masted vessel as evidenced by the Uluburn wreck found at Kas
in Turkey, dating from 1,450 BC. Such vessels carried diverse cargoes including people
(migrants, messengers, and slaves), though the main goods were likely metals, textiles,
9
wine, and olive oil. Evidence for some of these was found on the Uluburun wreck; other
evidence comes from archives and inscriptions akin to bills of lading. Broodbank (2013)
suggests that the value of cargo of the Uluburun ship was such that it was sufficient
to feed a city the size of Ugarit for a year. Ugarit was the largest trading city in the
Levant at the time with a population of about 6,000 - 8,000. This highlights that sea
trade still largely consisted of high value luxury goods. The Ugarit archives also reveal
that merchants operating on their own account had become commonplace by the mid 2nd
millennium. Levantine rulers relied more on taxation than central planning of economic
activities. Trade was both risky and profitable; the most successful traders became among
the richest members of their societies.
Around the same time, the Myceneans traded as far as Italy. Sicily and the Tyrrhenian
got drawn into the network. While 60 - 70 km crossings to Cyprus or Crete and across the
Otrano Straight (from Greece to the heel of Italy) were commonplace, coast hugging still
prevailed among sailors during the 2nd millenium BC. After crossing the Otrano Straight,
Greek sailors would continue along the coast of the Bay of Taranto, the instep of Italy’s
boot, as is suggested by the distribution of Greek pottery at coastal sites. Indigenous sea-
farers from the central Mediterranean now joined these routes, and the sail finally entered
the central Mediterranean around 1,200 BC. While there were no big breakthroughs,
naval technology also improved in the late 2nd millennium. Better caulking and keels
added to sea-worthiness (Abulafia, 2011), while brail rigging and double prows improved
maneuverability. Most notably, latitude sailing was developed and allowed sailors to steer
a straight east-westerly course. “This was a leap in the scope of connections, a permanent
shift in Mediterranean history and a crucial stage in tying together the basin’s inhabitants
across the soon-to-be shrinking sea,” observes Broodbank (2013, p. 431) before warning
that“we should not exaggerate, nor anticipate, the importance of such connections at this
early juncture. Not until the Iron Age did relations become close enough to fundamentally
reshape the culture and economies of outlying regions.” (p. 441)
10
A new period of decline around 1,200 BC reduced the power of Egypt, wiped out cities
like Ugarit, and ended the reign of the last palace societies in the eastern Mediterranean.
In the more integrated world that the eastern Mediterranean had become, troubles spread
quickly from one site to others. The Bronze Age came to an end with iron coming on
the scene. Rather than being technologically all that much superior to bronze, iron ore
was far more abundant and widespread than copper and hence much more difficult to
monopolize. As was the case many times before, decline and change opened up spaces for
smaller players and more peripheral regions. Cyprus flourished. Many Levantine cities
recovered quickly. Traders from the central Mediterranean also expanded and challenged.
Traditionally, decline during this “Dark Age” was often blamed on the anonymous “Sea
Peoples.” Modern scholarship seems to challenge whether these foreigners were simply just
raiders and pirates, as the Egyptians surely saw them, rather than also entrepreneurial
traders who saw opportunities for themselves to fill the void left by the disappearance of
imperial connections and networks. Some of these new interlopers settled in the Levant
(Broodbank, 2013).
While there is much academic debate about the origin of the Phoenicians, there is little
doubt that the Levantine city states which had taken in these migrants were the origin
of a newly emerging trade network. Starting to connect the old Bronze Age triangle
formed by the Levantine coast and Cyprus, they began to expand throughout the entire
Mediterranean after 900BC. The Phoenician city states were much more governed by
economic logic than was the case for royal Egypt. One aspect of their expansion was the
formation of enclaves, often at nodes of the network. Carthage and Gadir (Cadiz) are
prime examples but many others existed. At least initially these were not colonies; the
Phoenicians did not try to dominate local populations. Instead, locals and other settlers
were invited to pursue their own enterprise and contribute to the trading network. The
core of the network consisted of the traditional sea-faring regions, the Aegean and the
Tyrrhenian. The expanding trade network of the early 1st millennium BC did not start
11
from scratch but encompassed various regional populations. Tyrrhenian metal workers
and Sardinian sailors had opened up connections with Iberia at the close of the 2nd
millennium. But the newly expanding network not only stitched these routes together, it
also created its own, new, long-haul routes.
These new routes began to take Phoenician and other sailors over long stretches of open
sea. While this had long been conjectured by earlier writers like Braudel (2001, writing in
the late 1960s) and Sherratt and Sherrat (1993), contemporary scholars are more confident.
Cunliffe (2008) writes about the course of a Phoenician sailor: “Beyond Cyprus, for
a ship’s master to make rapid headway west there was much to be said for open-sea
sailing. From ... the western end of Cyprus he could have sailed along the latitude to
the south coast of Crete ... where excavation has exposed a shrine built in Phoenician
fashion. Travelling the same distance again ..., once more following the latitude, would
have brought him to Malta” (p. 275-276), a route which became known as the “Route of
the Isles.” Abulafia (2011) describes their seafaring similarly: “The best way to trace the
trading empire of the early Phoenicians is to take a tour of the Mediterranean sometime
around 800BC. ... Their jump across the Ionian Sea took them out of the sight of land, as
did their trajectory from Sardinia to the Balearics; the Mycenaeans had tended to crawl
round the edges of the Ionian Sea past Ithaka to the heel of Italy, leaving pottery behind
as clues, but the lack of Levantine pottery in southern Italy provides silent evidence of
the confidence of Phoenician navigators.” (p. 71).
This involved crossing 300 - 500 km of open sea. One piece of evidence for sailing away
from the coast are two deep sea wrecks found 65 km off the coast of Ashkelon (Ballard
et al., 2002). Of Phoenician origin and dating from about 750 BC, the ships were 14
meters long, and each carried about 400 amphorae filled with fine wine. These amphorae
were highly standardized in size and shape. This highlights the change in the scale and
organization of trade compared to the Uluburun wreck with its diverse cargo. It also
12
suggests an early form of industrial production supporting this trade.
An unlikely traveler offers a unique lens on the expansion of trade and the density of
connections which were forged during this period. The house mouse populated a small
area in the Levant until the Neolithic revolution. By 6,000 BC, it had spread into southern
Anatolia before populating parts of north eastern Africa and the Aegean in the ensuing
millennia (there were some travelers on the Uluburun ship). There were no house mice
west of Greece by 1,000 BC. Then, within a few centuries, the little creature turned up on
islands and on the mainland throughout the central and western Mediterranean (Cucchi,
Vigne, and Auffray, 2005).
The Phoenicians might have been at the forefront of spreading mice, ideas, technology,
and goods all over the Mediterranean but others were part of these activities. At the eve of
Classical Antiquity, the Mediterranean was constantly criss-crossed by Greek, Etruscan,
and Phoenician vessels as well as smaller ethnic groups. Our question here is whether this
massive expansion in scale led to locational advantages for certain points along the coast
compared to others, and whether these advantages translated into the human activity
which is preserved in the archaeological record. A brief, rough time line for the period we
investigate is given in Figure 1.
3 Data and key variables
For our Mediterranean dataset we compute a regular grid of 10×10 kilometers that spans
the area of the Mediterranean and the Black Sea using a cylindrical equal area projection.
This projection ensures that horizontal neighbors of grid points are on the same latitude
at 10 kilometers distance from each other, and that each cell has an equal area over the
surface of the earth.1 We define a grid-cell as water if falls completely into water, using a
1As the Mediterranean is close enough to the equator distortions from using another projection aresmall in this area of interest.
13
coastline map of the earth from Bjorn Sandvik’s public domain map on world borders in
the ESRI database. We define it as coastal if it is intersected by a coastline. We classify
grid cells that are neither water nor coastal as land. Our estimation dataset consists
of coastal cells only, and each cell is an observation. There are 3,646 cells in the data
set.
We compute the distance between coastal point i and coastal point j moving only over
water dij using the cost distance command in ArcGIS. Our key variable in this study,
called cd, captures the ease with which other coastal grid points can be reached within a
certain distance d. This captures how coastal shape influences the potential for trade in
each location. Consider Figure 2: Coastal points in the left panel, where the sea forms
a convex shape, are connected with more other locations within the distance given by
the blue ray compared to coastal points located on a concave coastline as in the right
panel.
To capture this difference we measure connectedness by counting the number of grid points
that can be reached by traveling up to distance d over water from each coastal grid point.
We compute the distance between coastal point i and coastal point j moving only over
water dij using the cost distance command in ArcGIS. Destinations may include islands
but we exclude islands which are smaller than 20km2. We also create separate measures,
one capturing only connectedness to islands, and a second measuring connectedness to
other points on the mainland coast. While we use straight line or shortest distances,
we realize that these would have rarely corresponded to actual shipping routes. Sailors
exploited wind patterns and currents, and often used circular routes on their travels
(Arnaud, 2007). Our measure is not supposed to mimic sailing routes but simply capture
opportunities.
Figure 3 displays the measure c500 for a distance of 500km; darker points indicate better
connected locations. Measures for other distances are strongly positively correlated and
14
maps look roughly similar. The highest connectedness appears around Greece and Turkey
partly due to the islands, but also Western Sicily and the area around Tunis. The figures
also highlight substantial variation of the connectedness measures within countries. The
grid of our analysis allows for spatial variation at a fine scale. We normalize each measure
cd to have mean 0 and standard deviation 1.
We interpret the measure cd as capturing connectivity. Of course, coastal shape could
proxy for other amenities. For example, a convex coastal shape forms a bay, which may
serve as a natural harbor. Notice that our or 10 × 10 kilometer grid is coarse enough to
smooth out many local geographic details. We will capture bays 50kilometersacrossbutnotthose5
kilometers across. It is these more local features which are likely more relevant for lo-
cational advantages like natural harbors. Our grid size also smooths out other local
geographic features, like changes in the coastline which have taken place over the past
millennia, due, for example, to sedimentation. The broader coastal shapes we capture have
been roughly the for the period since 3,000 BC, which we study (Agouridis, 1997).
Another issue with our measure of connectivity is whether it also captures better potential
for trade or also more exposure to external threats like military raids. Overall, it was
probably easier to defend against coastal attacks than land-based ones (e.g. Cunliffe, 2008,
p. 447) so this may not be a huge concern. But at some level it is obvious that connectivity
is bidirectional. In this respect we measure the net effect of better connectivity.
We also compute a global dataset based on a global grid. We increase the cell size to
50×50 kilometers. This is for computational convenience, but also our outcome variables
at the global level are at the country level and thus spatial precision is less relevant than in
the Mediterranean data set. We focus on the part of the world between -60 degrees and 60
degrees latitude, as units outside that range are unlikely candidates for early urbanization
for climatic reasons. In the Southern Hemisphere there is hardly any landmass apart from
the Antarctic below 60 degrees, while in the Northern Hemisphere 60 degrees is close to
15
Helsinki, Aberdeen, and Juneau, Alaska, well north of climatic conditions particularly
favorable to early settlement. We again compute the distance from each coastal grid
point to each other coastal grid point by moving only over water. Figure 4 shows the
global connectedness measure c500. The most connected coastal points are located again
near Greece, but also in Southeast Asia, Chile, Britain, and Northern Canada, while
Western Africa and Eastern South America have few well connected coastal points.
One limitation of the proposed connectivity measure cd is that it gives all coastal points
that can be reached within distance d equal weight. We would however expect a connection
with a well connected coastal point to be more beneficial than a connection with a remote
coastal cell. To address this limitation we could weight destination cells by their own cd,
and recompute a weighted version called c2d. After normalization we could compute an
additional measure c3d, where we use c2d as the weight. Repeating this infinitely often,
the measure converge to a variable called “network centrality.” This is a standard measure
in various disciplines to capture the importance of nodes in a network. To compute the
centrality measure, we create a symmetric matrix A for all binary connections, with entries
that consist of binary variables indicating distances smaller than d. We set the diagonal
of the matrix to zero. We solve equation Ax = λx for the largest possible eigenvalue λ of
matrix A. The corresponding eigenvector x gives the centrality measure.
Our main source of data on settlements in pre-history is the Pleiades dataset at the
University of North Carolina, the Stoa Consortium, and the Institute for the Study of the
Ancient World at New York University maintained jointly by the Ancient World Mapping
Center.2 The Pleiades dataset is a gazetteer for ancient history. It draws on multiple
sources to provide a comprehensive summary of the current knowledge on geography in
the ancient world. The Barrington Atlas of the Greek and Roman World (Talbert, 2000)
is the main source the database is build on; it is an open source project and material from
2Available at pleiades.stoa.org. We use a version of the dataset downloaded in June 2014.
16
multiple other scholarly sources has been added.
The Pleiades data are available in three different formats of which we use the “pleiades-
places” dataset. It offers a categorization as well as an estimate of the start and end date
for each site. We only keep units that have a defined start and end date, and limit the data
set to units that have a start date before 500 AD. We use two versions of these data, one
more restricted (which we refer to as “narrow”) and the other more inclusive (“wide”).
In the narrow one we only keep units that contain the word “urban” or “settlement”
in the categorization. These words can appear alongside other categorizations of minor
constructions, such as bridge, cemetery, lighthouse, temple, villa, and many others. One
problem with the narrow version is that the majority of Pleiades sites do not have a
known category. So that we do not lose these sites we include all sites irrespective of their
category and including those classified as “unknown” in the wide version of the data.
Some of the entries in the Pleiades dataset are located more precisely than others. The
dataset offers a confidence assessment consisting of the classifications precise, related,
rough, and unlocated. We only keep units with a precisely measured location in the
narrow set while we keep all entries in the wide set.3 For both datasets, as we merge the
Pleiades data onto our grid we round locations to the nearest 10× 10 kilometers and are
thus robust to some minor noise.
Since the Pleiades data is originally based on the Barrington Atlas it covers sites from
the classical Greek and Roman period well and adequate coverage seems to extend back
to about 750BC. The coverages of older sites seems much more limited as the number of
sites with earlier start dates drops precipitously. For example, our wide data set has 1,509
3In both data sets, Pleiades contains some sites that have the same identifier, but different locations.This could reflect, among others, sites from different eras in the same location or different potentiallocations for the same site. We deal with this by dropping all sites that have the same Pleiades identifierand whose coordinates differ by more than 0.1 degree latitude or longitude in the maximum. The latterrestrictions affects around one percent of the Pleiades data. The remaining identifiers with several sitesare dealt with by counting them as one unit, with the start given by the minimum, the end by themaximum date of overlapping time spans.
17
sites in 750 BC and 2,882 in 500 BC but only 63 in 1500 BC. While economic activity
was surely less in the Bronze Age and earlier, there are likely many earlier sites missing in
data. As a consequence, our estimation results with the Pleiades data for earlier periods
may be rather unreliable.
We therefore created an additional data set of sites from the Archaeological Atlas of the
World (Whitehouse and Whitehouse, 1975). The advantage of the Whitehouse Atlas is
that it focuses heavily on the pre-historic period, and therefore complements the Pleiades
data well. A disadvantage is that it is 40 years old. While there has been much ad-
ditional excavation in the intervening period, there is little reason to believe that it is
unrepresentative for the coverage of sites and locations. The interpretation of the archae-
ological evidence may well have changed but this is of little consequence for our exercise.
Another drawback of the Whitehouse Atlas is that the maps are much smaller than in
the Barrington Atlas. As a result, there may have been a tendency by the authors to
choose the number of sites so as to fill each map, leading to a distribution of sites which is
too uniform (something that would bias our results against finding any relationship with
our connectivity measure). This, however, is offset by the tendency to include maps for
smaller areas in locations with many sites. For example, there are separate maps for each
of Malta, Crete, and Cyprus but only three maps for all of Iberia.
We geo-referenced all entries near the coasts on 25 maps covering the Mediterranean in the
Whitehouse Atlas ourselves. Using the information in the map titles and accompanying
text, we classified each map as belonging to one of three periods: the Neolithic, the
Bronze Age, or the Iron Age and later. Some maps straddle periods and some contain
more detailed classification of sites, which we use (see the appendix for details). However,
in some cases it is not possible to classify sites clearly by period particularly between the
Neolithic and Bronze Age.
Our final data source is the Barrington Atlas (Talbert, 2000). The Barrington Atlas
18
consists of two parts; actual maps and map by map directories. The Pleiades data is
based on the information in these directories, which record names, grid references, period
information, and references to sources. The maps contain one piece of information not in
the directory, which is size categories. These are displayed through different typefaces.
We classified the sizes of all the sites on Map I in the Barrington Atlas, an overview map
of the Mediterranean. This map distinguishes three size classes. We coded these by hand
and combined the results with the information in Pleiades (geographic coordinates, timing
information, etc.). Although these sizes are doubtlessly rough, we believe they contain
some valuable information, particularly for the height of the Roman Empire when the site
density was high. It allows us to distinguish the biggest agglomerations like Rome and
Carthage from more minor sites. We assign the largest sites a value of 3, the intermediate
ones 2, and the smallest ones 1.
To measure the urbanization rate of each coastal grid point for time t we count the number
of sites from either Pleiades or Whitehouse that exist at time t within 50 kilometers of
that coastal point on the same landmass. For the Barrington data we count add the
size values of the sites within 50 kilometers. We also count the number of land cells
that are within 50 kilometers of that coastal grid point on the same landmass. We
normalize the number of sites by the number of land cells within this radius. We prefer this
density measure to the non-normalized count of sites in order to avoid that coastal shape
(which enters our connectivity measure) mechanically influences the chance of having an
archaeological site nearby. On the other hand, we want to classify a small trading islands
as highly urbanized. We normalize our measure of urban density to have mean 0 and
standard deviation 1 for each period to facilitate comparison over time when the number
of settlements changes.
19
4 Specification and results
We run regressions of the following type:
uit = Xiγt + cdiβdt + εit, (1)
where uit is the urbanisation measure for grid point i, Xi are grid point control variables
and cdi is a connectivity measure for distance d. We only measure connectiivity of a lo-
cation, not actual trade. Hence, when we refer to trade this may refer to the exchange
of goods but could also encompass migration and the spread of ideas. uit measures the
density of settlements, which we view as proxy for the nominal GDP of an area. Growth
manifests itself both in terms of larger populations as well as richer elites in a Malthu-
sian world. We would expect that the archaeological record captures exactly these two
dimensions.
As control variables, we use distance to the Fertile Crescent, distance to the Route of
the Isles, distance to Rome, longitude, and latitude, which all do not vary over time. We
also explore dropping the Aegean, to address concerns that our results may be driven
exclusively by developments around the Greek islands, by far the best connected area
in the Mediterranean. We also drop North Africa to address concerns that there are
fewer archaeological sites in North Africa due to a relative lack of exploration. This may
spuriously correlate with the fact that the coast is comparatively straight. We cluster
standard errors at the level of a grid of 2×2 degrees.4. We normalize uit and cdi to mean
0 and standard deviation 1 to make our estimates comparable across years with different
numbers of cities, and different magnitudes of connectedness measures.
In Table 1, we start by showing results for 750BC from our different data sets. At this
4This is slightly coarser than in Bester, Conley and Hanson (2011) but should take better care of thepotential of spatial correlation in our setting
20
time we expect sailors to make extensive use of direct sea connections, and hence the
coefficients βdt from Equation 1 should be positive. This is indeed the case for a wide
variety of specifications. We find the strongest results in the Pleiades data with the wide
definition of sites. This result is highly significant. The coefficient is slightly lower for
the narrow site definition, and for Iron Age sites from the Whitehouse Atlas. We find the
smallest coefficients for our size adjusted sites, which we obtained from the Barrington
Atlas directly, and the coefficient is only marginally significant now.
Results are fairly similar when add the control variables in column (2). Dropping the
Aegean in column (3), the wide Pleiades coefficient drops but all the others remain much
the same. Adding the controls to this narrower data set in column (4) leads to much
smaller estimates, particularly in the wide Pleiades data and the Barrington data, where
the coefficient is now negative. None of the results in column (4) is still significant. It is
the interaction between dropping the Aegean and including distance to Rome, a variable
which shouldn’t matter for this time period before Rome was actually founded (but might
be important later during the time of the Roman Empire). Though not particularly
sensible, this is the only specification we tried where our results are very weak for 750BC
or 500BC. Dropping North Africa in column (5) makes little difference compared to the
original results.
Figure 5 shows coefficients from the basic specification with the wide Pleiades set of
sites. It demonstrates that coefficients are fairly similar for various distances for our
connectivity measure. This is likely due to the fact that these measures are correlated
across the various distances. There is a small hump with a peak around 500km, probably
distances which were important during the Iron Age when sailors started to make direct
connections between Cyprus and Crete or Crete and Sicily. But we don’t want to make
too much of that.
Figure 6 shows results from the Pleiades data over time. Coefficients are small and
21
mostly insignificant before 750BC. There is a very sharp increase in the coefficient value
at 750BC, followed by a slow decline in the coefficients thereafter. The increase of coef-
ficients in 750BC is consistent with the systematic open sea crossing at the time of the
Phoenicians from about 900BC. Nevertheless, we are skeptical about reading too much
into the Pleiades results. The Pleiades database is originally based on the Barrington
Atlas and has incorporated primarily other sources also focusing on the classical period.
The coverage of sites in 1,000BC and earlier in the Pleiades is poor. We suspect that
results in Figure 6 might reflect this under-coverage, rather than a true upturn in the
effect of connectedness.
We have demonstrated in Table 1 that the large association between connectedness and the
presence of sites is replicated across various data sets and specifications for the 750BC. So
we are fairly confident in that result. Figure 6 raises two questions: Is the sharp upturn in
coefficients between 1000BC and 750BC real and does this association vanish later during
the Roman Empire? On both counts there are reasons to be suspicious of the Pleiades
data. Coverage of sites from before 750BC is poor in the data while coverage during the
Roman period may be too extensive.
In order to address the issue that the Pleiades data do not cover the pre-Iron Age periods
well, we compare our results to those using the Whitehouse data in Figure 7. Here we
plot coefficients again against distances varying from 100km to 1,000km. The solid line
shows sizable and significant coefficients in the range between 0.2 and 0.3, as we had
already seen in Table 1. The line with dashes and dots shows coefficients for sites from
all the maps dated earlier. Coefficients are small and insignificant for small distances but
similar to the Iron Age coefficients for larger distances. This hints at the possibility that
long range connections already mattered during the Bronze Age. Unfortunately, dating of
maps in the Whitehouse Atlas is often not precise, and it is not possible to make a clean
distinction between Bronze Age sites and earlier neolithic ones. If we focus on sites which
22
are clearly labeled as Bronze Age only, we obtain the coefficients shown in the broken line.
These coefficients are smaller, below 0.1 and insignificant. This suggests indeed indeed
that a stronger association between connectedness and sites emerged with the advent of
the Iron Age.
Once geographical conditions have played a role in a site location, do we expect human
agglomerations to persist? A large literature in urban economics and economic geogra-
phy has addressed this question and largely found substantial persistence of city locations,
sometimes across periods of major historical disruption (Davis and Weinstein 2002, Bleak-
ley and Lin 2012, Michaels and Rauch 2015, Bosker and Buringh 2011 among others). This
evidence is at odds with the declining coefficients over time in Figure 6 after 750BC.
We suspect that this result stems from the fact that the site density in the Pleiades data
is becoming too high during the Roman period. For example, in 500BC there are already
almost 2000 sites in our data set, which only contains 3,464 gridpoints. The number of
gridpoints really overestimates the number of distinct data points we use since we measure
sites within overlapping 50km radii from a coastal grid cell. As a result, our coastal grid is
quickly becoming saturated with sites after the start of the Iron Age. We suspect that this
simply eliminates any useful variation within our data set: By the height of the Roman
empire most coastal grid points are located near some sites.
Hence, we feel that the Barrington data is better suited to address the question of whether
the effects we find persist during the Roman period as we might expect. There are fewer
sites in the Barrington data to begin with (because we only focus on an overview map
hence selecting more important sites). But we also have the size information to draw on
which gives us additional variation.
Figure 8 shows the comparison of coefficients from the Pleiades and Barrington data for
the period 750BC to 500AD. Coefficients start out higher in the Pleiades data, around
0.5 and then decline monotonically to zero by 500AD. The baseline coefficient in the
23
Barrington data is smaller at around 0.2, but in contrast to the Pleiades pattern remains
relatively stable over this period with at most a minor decline towards the end of the
Roman Empire by 500AD. This suggests that our results are consistent with the literature
on the persistence of agglomeration effects.
Table 2 shows some further robustness checks of our results for different subsamples. Col-
umn (1) repeats our baseline results from table 1. Columns (2) to (4) use only continental
cells, dropping island locations. Results in column (2) are similar or stronger. Columns
(3) and (4) explore whether it is coastal shape or the locations of islands which drive our
results. Here, we calculate connectedness using either only island cells as destinations (in
column 3) or only continental cells (in column 4). Both matter but islands are important
for our story. Coefficients for island connections in column (3) are about twice the size of
those in column (4). Finally, column (5) replaces our simple connectedness measure with
the eigenvalue measure of centrality; results are very similar.
We corroborate our findings for the Mediterranean at a World scale. Unfortunately, we
have only a single early outcome measure: population in 1AD. Figure 9 is a scatter plot of
c500 against mean log population density at the country level. The weights in this figure
correspond to the number of coastal grid points in each country. We add a regression
line from standard OLS. As is clear from the figure, the relationship between population
density and connectedness at the country level is strongly positive around the world as
well. Many Mediterranean countries can be found in the upper right quadrant of this plot,
highlighting that connectivity in the basin may have contributed to the early development
of this region.
24
5 Conclusion
We have argued that connectedness matters for human development. Some geographic
locations are advantaged because it is easier to reach a larger number of neighbors. We
exploit this idea to study the relationship between connectedness and early development
around the Mediterranean. We argue that this association should emerge most potently
when sailors first started crossing open seas systematically. This happened during the
time when Phoenician, Greek, and Etruscan sailors and settlers exapanded throughout
the Mediterranean between 800 and 500BC. Barry Cunliffe (2008) calls this period at
the eve of Classical Antiquity “The Three Hundred Years That Changed the World” (p.
270).
This is not to say that sea trade and maritime networks were unimportant earlier. While
we find clear evidence of a significant association between connectedness and the presence
of archaeological sites for 750BC our results are more mixed as to whether this relationship
began to emerge at that period because the data on earlier sites are more shaky. On the
other hand, we find that once these locational advantages emerged the favored locations
retain their urban developments over the ensuing centuries. This is in line with a large
literature on urban persistence.
While our paper speaks to the nexus between trade and growth we are unable to link
connectedness directly to trade in goods or other channels of sea based transport like
migrations or the spread of ideas. Some of the issues we hope to explore further in this re-
search are the interactions between maritime connections and other locational advantages,
like access to land routes or minerals. It should also be possible to link connectedness
to what is known about actual sailing routes during the Roman era. Finally, we hope to
probe the persistence of these effects more by linking the results to data on more modern
city locations.
25
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28
Figure 1: Timeline
Figure 2: Convexity of coastline and connectedness. Coastal points in the convex left panelcan reach more other coastal points in the same distance than coastal points located ona concave coastline as in the right panel.
29
Figure 9: Global correlation between connectedness and log population density aroundthe year 0, weights reflect length of coasts of countries.
36
Table 1: Basic results for various datasets
Dependent variable (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)
Pleiades Wide 750BC 0.52 0.51 0.36 0.11 0.51(0.06) (0.07) (0.12) (0.13) (0.07)
Pleiades Narrow 750BC 0.31 0.27 0.38 0.17 0.30(0.06) (0.08) (0.13) (0.17) (0.07)
Whitehouse Atlas Iron Age 0.26 0.20 0.38 0.23 0.20(0.07) (0.09) (0.17) (0.20) (0.08)
Barrington Atlas 750BC 0.17 0.08 0.17 -0.08 0.15(0.09) (0.11) (0.13) (0.17) (0.10)
Observations 3646 3646 2750 2750 3044Controls: Distance to FertileCrescent, Route of the Isles,Rome, Longitude and Latitude X XDropping Aegean X XDropping North Africa X
Notes: Coefficients from a regression of site density within 50km from different sources on 500km
connectedness. Standard errors clustered at the level of 2x2 degree cells, in parentheses.
37
Table 2: Results for different connections
Standard 500km connectedness Centrality(1) (2) (3) (4) (5)
Pleiades Wide 750BC 0.52 0.45 0.44 0.20 0.51(0.06) (0.14) (0.12) (0.11) (0.07)
Whitehouse Iron Age 0.26 0.46 0.42 0.25 0.23(0.07) (0.05) (0.04) (0.08) (0.07)
Barrington 750BC 0.17 0.30 0.32 0.11 0.18(0.09) (0.13) (0.10) (0.10) (0.09)
Observations 3646 2658 2658 2658 3646
From All Continent Continent Continent AllTo All All Island Continent All
Notes: Coefficients from a regression of density measures from different sources on measures of 500km connectedness
or eigenvalue centrality. Robust standard errors, clustered at the level of 2x2 degree cells, in parentheses.
38
6 Appendix
We classified the maps contained in the Whitehouse atlas into three broad categories:
Neolithic, Bronze Age, and Iron Age or later. Maps were classified based on their title,
accompanying texts, and labels for individual sites. The following table provides details
of our classification.
39
Table 3: Classification of archaeological sites in the Whitehouse atlas
Pages Map Title/Details Classification72f. Neolithic to Bronze Age sites in Anatolia Bronze Age or earlier74f. Hittites and their successors Bronze Age or earlier76f. Late prehistoric and proto-historic sites in Near East Bronze Age or earlier90f. Neolithic to Bronze Age sites in Western Anatolia and the Cyclades Bronze Age or earlier92f. Neolithic sites in Greece Neolithic94f. Cyprus
Ktima, Kourion, Amathous, Kition, Karpasia, Athienou/Golgoi, Idalion, Kyrenia, Vouni, Kouklia/Old Paphos Iron Age or laterKalavassos, Kirokitia, Kythrea, Lapithos, Petra tou Limniti, Sotira, Troulli, ErimiRemainder Bronze Age
96f. Crete Bronze Age or earlier98f. Mycenaean and other Bronze Age sites in Greece Bronze Age100f. The Mycenaeans abroad Bronze Age102f. The Phoenicians at home Bronze Age / Iron Age or later104f. The Phoenicians abroad Iron Age or later106f. Archaic and Classical Greece Iron Age or later108f. The Greeks overseas Iron Age or later110f. Neolithic sites in the central Mediterranean Neolithic112f. Copper and Bronze Age sites in Italy Bronze Age114f. Copper and Bronze Age sites in Sicily and the Aeolian Islands Bronze Age116f. Copper and Bronze Age sites in Corsica and Sardinia Bronze Age118f. Early Iron Age sites in the central Mediterranean Iron Age or later120f. The central Mediterranean: Carthaginians, Greeks and Etruscans Iron Age or later122 Malta
Skorba NeolithicGhar Dalam, Tarxien Bronze Age or earlierBahrija Bronze Age
123ff. Neolithic sites in Iberia Neolithic126ff. Copper and Bronze Age sites in Iberia Bronze Age129ff. Early Iron Age sites in Iberia Iron Age or later140f. Neolithic and Copper age sites in France and Switzerland Neolithic164f. Bronze Age sites in France and Belgium Bronze Age
40
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